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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29369229">I Love You(r Words)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/agosu/pseuds/agosu'>agosu</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!, ハイキュー</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Friendship, Post-Time Skip, Pre-Time Skip, Romance, Stargazing, Symbolism, comfort (for me), idk it was an impulse, komori motoya supremacy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:27:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,136</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29369229</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/agosu/pseuds/agosu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Make them pretty, make them ugly. Clowns and sorrows and badgers and names.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Komori Motoya/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. “Catastrophes are a set of syllables created by a vacuum.”</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><strong>It's a forty-minute</strong> train ride from Shibuya to Koto; it's a dull yet eventful Tuesday night. The weight of Komori's head against hers, the reflection staring back at her from across the empty wagon, the artist tearing their throat apart through the earphones they share. Goosebumps erupt on her arms as she closes her eyes briefly to find peace in the heaving of her chest. Hands intertwined, Komori reaches his thumb towards her wrist to caress over flawed skin, as uncomfortable as it is. When [Name] flutters her eyes open again, she meets his comforting smile merging with the twinkling stars.</p><p>He straightens his head, gazing down as [Name]'s cheek falls on his shoulder. A chuckle slips from her mouth, lips curling into a serene simper. She forgets adults she doesn't want to follow and recalls the clear tape covering a gaping hole in the glass of her window. Her eyes struggle to lock with his, but she will always put in a bit more effort into looking at him. She's convinced Komori is either psychic or has actually implanted a camera in her bedroom. He insists <em>the vibes were off in her messages</em>, but how do a bunch of W's have vibes?</p><p>"Do you prefer the ocean or the sky at night?" she mutters out while returning her attention to the window across from them. She knows what she'd choose.</p><p>He lets out a pondering hum that vibrates from his throat to his shoulder and reminds her they're together. "They're not comparable." Her frizzled hair tickles his jaw before he rests his cheek against her.</p><p>"Why's that?"</p><p>"You can't swim in the sky, can you?"</p><p>"Maybe <em>you </em>can't."</p><p>Their laughters are distinguishable in the emptiness of the train, revealing dimples and holding independence from each other's voices. The way Komori covers his mouth with his fist as he puffs his chuckles creates quietude in the jumbled mess of wrinkled thoughts that twist and turn to form her brain. The way [Name]'s tongue pokes out from between her teeth fills his stomach up with butterflies made from warming adoration for the friend whose hand he gets to hold. They settle down as they blow out sighs brimming with contentment. Glimpses of the waxing moon echo the earlier question.</p><p>"What's your answer?"</p><p>"Which do you want?"</p><p>"The sky—the midnight sky, of course. Clear of clouds, new moon, scars—<em>stars</em>, sorry. Stars of every color, Venus is probably visible."</p><p>"Go prettier."</p><p>She pulls away from his shoulder, the weight of his body transferring from her head to her lap as he makes no effort to sit up. He refuses to let go of her hand and squeezes it while cradling it atop his chest. The view is one she allows only for him; vulnerability, creativity, hope, love. There's delicacy in how her lips carefully wrap around the words she chooses and the syllables she whispers into soft clouds of her voice. Two for the blue he steals from the sky, two for that same vast and open sky, five for the lack of moon, four for her feelings.</p><p>"You hold the midnight sky in your gaze, stretching farther than mortal human hands can ever hope to reach. It's a welcoming darkness, inviting, safe. A moonless night where the only light comes from twinkling stars, dead and alive, dotting an endless canvas in glowing silver and red and gold and colors unknown to humans. They all glisten in the blue of your eyes and they're beautiful. I love you."</p><p>[Name] admires the realized smile growing on his lips. His thumb resumes its rubbing on the torn skin of her arms. "I love your words," Komori snickers in return. She laughs with him as she rolls her eyes. It's a language only the two of them can speak, sharing meanings twisted into codes for their own understanding.</p><p>Silence falls for her to relish in the disappearance of the anxiety that eats at her stomach and clogs her throat up and transforms speaking into torture. She owes it all to Komori, those stones he keeps throwing at her bedroom window, and his offer to run away from the discord at home if even for one night. Sentences flood over her lips effortlessly when it's his eyes she's staring into, although she can't see past them to find the end of the words she's spilling. He's the type of person that makes others want to hug and kiss them without trying. [Name] fears intimate touches as she saves herself from new bruises, but she's come to find the tips of his fingers heal.</p><p>She's come to find if it's Komori, she doesn't mind speaking until her vocal chords tear; she doesn't mind welcoming the warmth of his hand around her numb fingers; she doesn't mind closing her eyes to finally rest. She's come to find that if it's Komori, it's fine.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. betelgeuse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><strong>Forty minutes in </strong>an empty train, mumbling nonsense instead of words, are worth it when the universe extends over their heads in the quiet of the night. They rest against the trunk of a tree as it stands tall and proud, stable in the instability of reality. Its branches, like sturdy feathers or elongated nails, stretch into the falling sky, reaching for stars the color of soft fires and hard-working bees twinkling across the landscape. The cooling breeze is velvet as it swims in-between the foliage.</p><p>Komori doesn't know about constellations, but [Name] holds facts she caught in whispers. The shapes in the sky offered a piece of knowledge on hours she spent awake. She presses her shoulder against his, tracing imaginary connections among the beams of light dotting the scenery and his eyes at the same time. "That's Orion's belt, made up of the Three Sisters. And if you go down, that red star there is his injured shoulder. I don't know its name, but it's my favorite star, considered a runaway star, isolated from the rest."</p><p>"Runaway like us?" Komori slips his hand into hers, bringing it down to his lap before she merges with the nebulas and joins Orion in his perpetual fight against the charging bull. She's always chased hares with her loyal hunting dog by her side.</p><p>"We'll be back home tomorrow." Her eyes stick to the flaming red hue of the constellation's flowing blood.</p><p>"But nobody knows where we are now."</p><p>"You told Sakusa, though, didn't you?"</p><p>"He's not here, is he?"</p><p>"There's nobody here."</p><p>Komori shifts his sights from Orion's brave swinging sword to [Name]'s sparkling gaze. She doesn't quite hold supernovas or gemstones in her irises; there's a dimming light akin to the dead stars becoming extinct in the span of a few decades. The waxing moon drapes a glow over her features like a veil, but it doesn't fit her. She's right; there's nobody there.</p><p>"Why is Orion upside-down?"</p><p>[Name] turns to meet the sky staring back at her. "He isn't. We are. Mirrors like to trick our eyes, but they can't lie."</p><p>"Why's that?"</p><p>"Don't mirrors speak to you?"</p><p>"Should they?" Silence pushes through after his question as [Name] looks away from him with a grin tugging at her lips. She hears the melodies from the Milky Way play in her mind. The chill of her hand disappears from his grasp and the weight of her burdens nuzzles onto his lap. "What do they tell you?" Komori inquires, threading his fingers through tangled strands of hair.</p><p>"That sorrows make people cruel."</p><p>"Have your sorrows made you cruel?"</p><p>"You tell me."</p><p>"Your life is weak, [Name], don't listen to what others tell you."</p><p>A chuckle escapes her. Words meaningless, tangled up, started and ended, jumped over, avoided, searched for. Conversations they share and sentences they fling back and forth between one another. She finds his eyes admiring the sight of her relaxation sprawled across his legs. A blue so deep yet so shallow, arms open for her to drown in when comfort is needed, they're entrancing, "and I could never speak a line as bright."</p><p>"As bright as what?" Komori hums. She only shares a small percentage of her thoughts unless she's requested to shower the world with her words.</p><p>"As the potential you carry to become a friend."</p><p>"Aren't I already? I'm very friendly."</p><p>"So is a badger."</p><p>It's his turn to laugh out loud. His neck cranes to the side and his fist hovers over his mouth. "Ah, fuck, you got me there."</p><p>"You're the best I got, Motoya."</p><p>"And you're the worst I got."</p><p>"You're my favorite boy."</p><p>"You say that every time."</p><p>"Because it's true. You're my favorite boy."</p><p>"You're my favorite girl."</p><p>"What's my name?"</p><p>"Don't ask me that."</p><p>"What should I ask you?"</p><p>"Clowns."</p><p>"Clowns?"</p><p>"Include clowns."</p><p>"You're always with me."</p><p>"What's your name, [Name]?"</p><p>"Don't ask that. Instead, say <em>let's go steady</em>."</p><p>"Let's go steady."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. 君を愛す。</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><strong>"Are you sure </strong>about this?"</p><p>"'Round sixty percent."</p><p>"Fuck." Music fills the bathroom they both stand in, a playlist he found years ago and she was the first person he showed it to. [Name] fills her lungs with air, pretending it's the courage she needs to face this new fear. "Okay, do it."</p><p>"Three, two—"</p><p>Blood flows as she grits her teeth; not from a wound or a punch Atsumu <em>didn't mean</em>, but from a wanted puncture improvised with a safety clip, symbolizing the death of a self to make room for a new one. She purses her lips and whines at the burning of rivers of warm crimson trailing from the upper cartilage of her ear and dripping to the floor. Atsumu presses a cotton ball soaking with alcohol to the open flesh, guiding [Name]'s hand to hold it despite the pain.</p><p>"Cool, lemme do the other." It's more a light-hearted announcement rather than a request of permission. He turns her face so her ear is basking in light and the coldness of the safety pin elicits a startled flinch from her. "Three, two—" Atsumu chuckles when he doesn't reach <em>one</em>, the pointed metal piercing through [Name]'s skin with ease.</p><p>She wipes both ears clean of blood and uses her warm fingers to hook the steel hoops Atsumu had in the depth of his drawers. The image the mirror reflects back is that of a human coming to life piece by piece. It takes nine months for a baby to form completely; it takes a second to kill oneself; it's an indeterminate process to come back to life. She won't know she's complete until she decides to kill herself again.</p><p>The buzzing of Atsumu's hair clipper tugs her out of her own head—or whatever is left of it. He positions her head staring straight ahead, looking into the mirror as he maps out all the different ways he can shoot bullets into her temples or slice her neck wide open. "How 'bout I line it with yer brows?" His nail traces a separation on her scalp, pulling two sections of her hair away from each other.</p><p>"Yours is lower," she points out, her eyes scanning over his undercut in the mirror.</p><p>"That's a no?"</p><p>"Go for it."</p><p>Tying the hair he's allowing her to keep, strands of strong roots and split ends flutter down like every tear not worth shedding, every tear she swears not to shed again. A weight disappears not only from her head and shoulders, but also from her chest. Her body is lighter as she buries pieces of her older self; her mistakes and good deeds, her choices and decisions never made, her lies and volatile truths.</p><p>She's content with letting Atsumu be the one to end her life. He's someone that kills himself on a daily basis, never glancing back at the pile of corpses and empty carcasses of his old self. Someone that changes every single day, with or without fear of choosing a new life every time. He wakes up a clean slate and crashes into bed with bleeding wrists. She wants to leave all the nonsense running through her mind to someone like him.</p><p>Atsumu yawns while flicking off his clipper. He pats [Name]'s shoulders free of stray hair before pushing her out the door. "We'll finish tomorrow. Crash on the couch, I dunno."</p><p>"Hospitality, my favorite." Traces of a rotting corpse litter the tiles of his bathroom as he guides her away to her temporary bed. Their exhausted chuckles mix with the last beats of the song currently playing, and Atsumu shuts his phone off to leave only laughter. [Name] calls out to him before he vanishes into his room and he meets her gaze with a raised brow. "Thanks for helping me kill myself." Her busted lip curls into a pleased simper built with fading memories.</p><p>"Anytime, [Name]. Night."</p><p>"Good night."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank you for letting me push my komori motoya supremacy agenda. im not good at romance and kisses and cuddles, but i would murder a man with my non-dominant hand if komori asked me to, so going out of my comfort zone for him is fine.</p><p>honestly, the relationship i portrayed is one i wish i could have with anyone, but i know i cant because ✨trust issues✨ komori best comfort character, i will prove the hq fandom you deserve more fics to your name</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Buy me a <a href="https://ko-fi.com/agosu">coffee</a>?</p></blockquote></div></div>
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